


Glass Shards

by photobookbee



Series: Writing Prompts [3]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Minor Injuries, New Year's Eve, Russian Roulette, Vampires, Writing Exercise, writing prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28993683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/photobookbee/pseuds/photobookbee
Summary: August is a vampire who just doesn't care anymore, but even he can see that 2020 was a sh*tshow. Really, the only reason he wears a mask at all is to keep his cover. Perks to being undead. Another perk to being undead: guaranteed win at Russian Roulette during New Years parties.
Relationships: Original Character(s) & Original Character(s)
Series: Writing Prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126214
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Glass Shards

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt from the Amazing Story Generator by Jason Sacher.
> 
> The prompt is:
> 
> "On New Year’s Eve" "a 400-year old Vampire" "plays Russian roulette"

August was very close to slamming his forehead on the table. That was a lot coming from him. August liked to have fun, which might not be expected for a vampire, but he spent a hundred years moping around and did not want to do that again. Last year he made a resolution to get out as much as possible to attempt to have fun. 2020 was wild, but it was not fun. Hopefully, 2021 could end the madness.

The vampire found himself looking around at this gathering that could barely be called a New Year’s Eve party. Most people in the bar were at least slightly drunk, a few looking like they would not remember any of this in the morning.

August looked around at all of the people chatting among themselves in small groups. All seemed at ease. They were eating or drinking with their masks pulled down or on the table, and each table was socially distancing and no one was at the bar. It would be an introvert’s dream party. They can sit by themselves, people will mostly avoid them, and if they wanted to talk, they could sit in a small group.

August sighed. Fifteen minutes to 2021 and he was not having a good time. He were probably going to leave as soon as the countdown was finished.

Ten minutes to midnight. One of the more drunk guys looked all around the room and yelled, “At-ta-tension pl-ease! I’ve a idea to ent-t-entertain ours-selves for New Years! Who wants to play Rus-ss-sian Roul-roulette?”

The room broke out in a round of whispers, with several people looking over to the lone bartender.

The bartender looked around, said, “Plausible deniability,” and left.

August snorted. He knew this place was shady. Turning towards the Drunkard who had made the announcement, he asked, “And where would we get the gun?”

The Drunkard looked confused, like he did not understand what the vampire had said. His mouth opened and closed; his eyes squinted. “Gun?”

The woman next to the Drunkard snorted. “Excuse him. And to answer your question, we do not need a gun.” The lady took a shot, got out of her seat, put on her mask, grabbed five empty wine bottles, and broke one of them on the side of the trashcan. “Does anyone have any bags?”

“Why did you break the glass if you did not know if anyone had any bags?” someone else asked.

“Doesn’t matter. Does anyone have some sort of covering?”

August thought for a moment. “How ‘bout we all use our masks’ as blindfolds except for one person who is the referee?”

The lady turned to him. “I like you,” she said, “Okay. I will be the referee, anyone playing, come over here, stand in a circle, and put your mask over your eyes. If you can see, close your eyes.”

August and the Drunkard came up to stand with three others to play. The lady took a spinning plate out of nowhere and set all of the bottles on it. 

“Blindfolds!”

August put his mask on and closed his eyes for good measure. He heard the lady spin the disk and stop it at a certain point. 

“Okay. Every one of you has a bottle in front of you. I will take your arm, one by one. If you want me to slam your hand down, say go ahead. If you do not want me to slam your hand down, say don’t do it. We will go until the person with the broken bottle slams his hand down on it or we get through everyone.”

Three people were in front of August. Two of them slammed their hand down to an intact bottle. The other chickened out. 

August felt the lady come up next to him. 

“Go ahead.” 

She took his hand and slammed it down. The bottle broke. He pulled it away and used his other hand to take the mask off.  
“Oh my god! Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?” the woman explained.

“Wait, what happened? Did he get the broken bottle?” another player asked.

“No! I slammed his hand down and he broke the bottle!”

August waved her off, glass shards still in his hand, “I’m fine! Continue the game, I will try to find some bandages.” He looked at the disk to find that his was the only broken bottle. The lady had switched the original broken bottle for a regular one. Nice.

August was asked, again, whether he needed an ambulance.

“No! I want to see how this plays out!”

“There are glass shards in your hand!”

“Happy New Years!”

**Author's Note:**

> Third work in this series! I hope I am getting better with them. If you have any corrections or requests, put them in the comments. 
> 
> This one was a lot more humorous than the previous two.
> 
> Kudos and comment if you enjoyed!


End file.
